“I scratch at the decaying skin. So cold, so dead, so blue. I lay in my skin wishing for a rebirth. Would I regret becoming someone different? No… Never. I am only a silhouette of skin and bones. My whole body nothing but bones. My hair thin and dead. My eyes, empty. No life in my face. For what life do I have to give? No one gives me love or compassion, only dead frightful stares. It kills me when I have to leave the dark warmth of my small apartment. This Winter’s breathe has finally begun to kill me. I can’t stand it. But mostly it’s not just the cold air that breaks my bones it’s seeing myself. I am nothing but a 89 pounds and a remarkable age of 27. The wrinkles on my face from loosing amazing amounts of weight make me look as if I was actually 72. I don’t have any friends, me and my family are not on speaking terms. they treat me as if I were already dead. But, but I don’t to die. i don’t want to leave yet. Though I have no purpose I still don’t want to leave. I want to believe I’m needed somewhere, for something. I want to find my purpose, but I’m afraid to look. I’m afraid of what I would find. Will my purpose be worth searching for, or should I just wither away here? Help me god.”

12 09 2009
“Don’t touch me!” Claire screamed at her husband. Tears streaming down her face, as well as her make-up. “Now, Claire it was only a minor thing she didn’t mean anything to me, I promise.” Jeff told his sobbing wife while she held the last of herself together. “You asshole, I-I know that you two where together for 3 months.” Claire said while she pointed to the “other” woman in the corner of the room. She wore a bed sheet, that was draped around her shoulders. She wore a dead boring face as well. No expression to be seen. ‘If he wanted to cheat on me, he could have least picked a better looking woman.’ Thought Claire. She whipped the tears of mascara off her face. Her blood-shot eyes now angry instead of sad. She looked at her husband. “I’m leaving.” She said, voice stern. “Well maybe that’s the best to do.” The other woman said, her arms wrapping around Claire’s husband neck. Her sheet falling to the floor. Claire’s eyes shot back to the kitchen counter, a butter knife lay there. She leaned over and grabbed the keys that she had tossed earlier that night. She also grabbed the knife. “Yes, and maybe it’s also a good thing for me to do this…” Claire left off as she giggled insanely. “What?” The woman asked in a cocky voice. “THIS!” Claire screamed as she turned and ran towards the other woman. Her husband moved from his spot leaving the woman directly in front of Claire. She ran straight into her grabbing her hair and slicing the other woman’s throat. Jeff was left there to scream at the astonishment that his wife had just committed. Claire laughed as she watched the other woman hold her throat and fall to the floor gasping. Claire stopped her laughing and looked at her husband. “Jeff,..” She said in a compassionate voice. “D-don’t come near me.” He said backing up to the counter. Claire just ignored his remark, and went on. “You know that when we said our vows and the part about death to us part, I was serious. Death to us part.” She said a evil smile now on her blood covered face. Strands of dirty blonde hair falling out of the bun which it once was. She ventured towards her lying, cheating abusive, asshole of a husband who never even gave her children. She was now right in front of his face. “I’m going to make sure you never fuck another woman again.” Claire ran the knife right into Jeff’s groan. He screamed and fell to the floor. Claire kicked his body several times in the ribs laughed at him and called him a ‘mother fucking bastard’ and left.

It was cold. Claire’s breathe was visible in the stores lights. No shoes, no jacket, just a suit from work and tights. Her hair a bloody mess as well as the suit. She looked like something out of a horror movie. She didn’t care. She was proud of her accomplishment. She was ‘happy’ she did what she did. That bitch deserved it. So did her good for nothing husband. Claire looked at her reflection in the store’s window. A sudden memory flickered in her mind. The sight of her bloody self. Her mother was the same at one point, but-but when? What happened? Why? Time stopped, Claire was lost. Lost in her “other” world. The world of her childhood. A bad memory. Her mother a hard worker, a beautiful lean woman. Her father, a attractive business man. Together they were one big happy family living in a area in Seattle. So everyone thought. Her mother a manic depressant, her father very abusive man. No one knew. No one ever told. Claire’s mother’s make-up did a remarkable job on hiding her “separate” life. A separate life of anger, tears, bruises and blood. Claire was not going to live the same life her mother did. She was going to be a free woman, not a caged one.

Life is never good for me and this is what I wish you’d see. Just let me end it all for I’ll be happy in the end, I’ll finally be free. Free from all the pain and torment and the never-ending battle. No more dealing with the arguments and tears, I’d finally be through with it all.You just don’t seem to understand that by keeping me here your making it worse.
If I were dead and gone by now I’d be happy, I wouldn’t have this life, I wouldn’t have the curse. These thoughts dance in my head day by day night by night. Some call it depression, but to me the thought of wanting to kill yourself doesn’t quite fit the picture of wanting to cry alone in a dark room. I call it suicide. You may think I’m crazy, well I’m sure you think that you are utterly positive that I am insane. But I assure you after you listen to my story I hope you will understand my ways.

My name is Adelaide Norton, I am 14, I was at the end of my last year in junior high. I’m not a very popular person, but I have my moments when the “in crowd” recognizes me. Even though I’m not in the “crowd” I still have lots of friends some of which are popular, my best friend, the one person who I know would never leave me, her name is Iris. Iris was my best friend she was also the track captain of our schools track team. She’s the type of person that all you have to do is look at her when she smiles, and can tell she would never do anything to hurt you. Every time I think about that I laugh. My conscious will reply back ‘Sure, she would NEVER do anything to hurt you.’ But, I always just push it out of my mind and ignore it. Until…

November 8, 2009. It was a Monday. The beginning of a new week. One I wish I could end. I was walking down my road to meet my mother at the end of the block so she could take me to school. It was cold and very rainy, overcast weather. When I came to my school’s gate mother dropped me off. I leaned in the car window gave my mother a kiss and told her I would be back later. In the far distance I heard giggling. I turned around to see Iris and a few of the popular girls. I knew it was a little childish to still be giving your mother a kiss and assuring her you would make it home safely, but I still did anyway. It made me feel better knowing that if she happened to get into a car accident she would be happy to know I was safe. But, anyway, I heard Iris laughing with the other girls. I turned around to find that she was giving me a dirty look. I looked around me. ‘No one’ my mind said, ‘no one but you’. She was definitely looking at me. I didn’t understand. By the time I looked back towards her she was already inside the building. I ran inside before the tardy bell rang.

When I entered the safe walls of our classroom. I noticed that Iris was sitting over at the very far table of the room. With all the popular kids. It was strange to me, because everyday since 3rd grade Iris and I always had the same classes, so we always sat together. I didn’t take it personal so I sat down in my regular seat. As soon as I sat down I jumped right back up. I jumped so fast and hard that is moved my desk. Reason be was that taks were in my seat. All over my seat. I let out a loud squeal of pain. Iris and the others looked at me. Her gaze met mine. She said “Oh, Adelaide, I’m so sorry, I guess, I forgot to pick them up earlier.” The smirk on her face showed other wise. My mind told me ‘that bitch.’ I didn’t correct it, she was becoming a bitch.

When lunch came I was standing alone. Iris was at the very start of the line. I was starting to become up-set with her.

When I first met Iris I was in the 3rd grade. She came up to me and pulled my hair. “Wow, your hair is really long!” she said grinning. I was shy at first, then I grew more and more comfortable with her and opened up. When I told her a secret, she never told. When I got hurt, she helped me. When someone was mean to me, she defended me. She was so much stronger than me. I really don’t know how we stayed friends for so long. Maybe because I envied her so, and she saw that. It was always hard for me to get mad at her. She would tease me so much, but I would always laugh.

It hurt me then to see her enjoying my pain.

When I was in 4th grade, I was more matured than others. Mentally and physically. So children picked on me. I didn’t like it, but I never said or did anything because I found no use for it. They wouldn’t stop anyway. I became depressed. I told Iris about the children picking on me. She only would say “Don’t worry, it’ll stop soon.” She never did anything. I don’t blame her for not helping. My parents didn’t help much either. This became an everyday thing. In each class period I went to, I would have at least one kid come up to me and tell me I was so ugly, and walk away. After a week or two I stopped caring. I got used to it. It didn’t bother me.

Deep down inside I became a bit jealous of Iris. She never had people call her ugly or doubt her in any way. She was always complimented. Always. In fact even in middle school she still was.

By now the lunch line was moving a little faster. I did nothing but watch Iris laugh and point to people across the room and whisper to Melrose, one of the popular girls. When the boy in front of me moved up I moved in his old spot. There was a dent in part of the lunch room floor where the tile over lapped a little. I tripped a little. My hand accidentally hit the boy in front of me. he turned around. “Sorry.” I said. He replied back. “Oh no, my bad, ugly girl.”

That was not the right words to say at that moment. I didn’t feel sad. but hollow. My hand reached up and slapped him across the upper part of his cheek bone. I felt a tear roll of my face. I whispered “You bastard.”

“What did you say you little bitch?” The boy asked, clenching his fists. I looked at him, “Asshole, you know just what I said.” The room got quiet. Iris and her group turned to watch. Iris called from her group “You know what she said to you Jonny, kick her ass!” The crowd started to chant “Fight, fight!”

Jonny threw a swing, but thankfully missed. I stepped back and lunged forward. I hit his nose. “Dammit!” He yelled. Blood squirted from his nostril, and over his hand which held it. “What’s going on here?!” The Principal screamed. With a continuing “Who did this?”

All fingers pointed to me. ‘Oh shit.’ I thought. The principal started murmuring something, but I could care less. My eyes were on Iris. ‘I’ll get you to bitch, just wait.’

My parents came to get me after the “talk” with the principal. what a lovely moment if I may. the whole time hearing the old cow tell me the consequences about my actions I wanted to drive a screw driver into her face. I was startled by the thought. My thoughts had been becoming more darker than usual lately. I don’t know why. Maybe because of Iris. But one thing I do want is for my dark thoughts of Iris to come true. I wouldn’t mind having her hurt or sick. Maybe even dead. It was a wonderful thought none of the less. I wished, oh how I wished that night something would happen. I was surprised to find that the next week, Iris was put into the hospital for having a mental break-down. Melrose told me that. She leaned in to whisper something in my ear, “You know, I think it was because of her and Alec’s relationship.” I laughed loudly at the thought. ‘Finally, my plan will commence.’